


The Least I Can Do

by LarielRomeniel



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Displacement, F/M, New Friendship, One Night Stands, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7786327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielRomeniel/pseuds/LarielRomeniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’m the one who was supposed to die at the Oculus, Mick. Not you, and not him."</p><p>Ray tries to help Sara cope after the Oculus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes things demand to be written. This was sparked by a combination of comments from San Diego Comic-Con 2016. The first is Caity Lotz's statement that S2 Sara is a "player" and a "Casanova" (I'm going with the David Tennant version of Casanova, who was quite the heartbroken lover). The second is Brandon Routh's revelation that for Ray, it would be more about lust than love in S2.
> 
> This is what came out of that.

The first time, Ray chalked it up to the vodka. Sometimes alcohol just led to bad decisions.

The second time, he thought perhaps it might have been some post-mission blood lust that needed to be worked off. Sara said she had it under control, but he’d seen her fighting and he knew there was a fine line between controlling the blood lust and surrendering to it.

By the third time, he knew it was something else entirely. Still, he let her have what she wanted.

Minutes after she left, there was a hard rap on his door. He sighed, pulling his pants back on. “Go ahead and open it, Gideon.”

Mick strode through, sniffed the air and glowered. “Haircut, what the _hell_ did you do to Blondie? “

“Nothing she didn’t want me to do,” Ray answered, picking his shirt up from the floor.

“You _fucked_ her, and now she’s _crying_?”

Ray sighed again as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Mick, it’s just displacement.” When Mick didn’t respond, he explained, “She’s using me in place of…”

Mick cut him off, growling, “I know what displacement is, Haircut. I spent plenty of time on shrinks’ couches.”

Ray nodded. “Well. You’ve seen how Sara’s been the past few months…”

“One-night stands all over history? Yeah. I know. And now she’s screwing you.”

Ray sank into his desk chair. “Not really, Mick.”

“No? Sure smells like it in here.”

Ray rubbed his eyes. “Mick, she calls his name. When she…” He paused, swallowed, and looked down at the floor. “She says ‘ _Leonard_.’ She doesn’t see me. She sees him. She wants _him_.”

He looked back up at Mick. “I don’t call her on it. I figure it’s better that she does this with me than with some of the random strays she’d been picking up.”

Mick let out a low, thoughtful rumble. “You’re probably right,” he said at last. “At least for her. But what about you?”

Ray gave him a wry smile. “Watch it. I might start thinking you actually care.” He stood up. “I’m the one who was supposed to die at the Oculus, Mick. Not you, and not him. Whatever Sara needs from me, whether it’s to be a punching bag or… this…” he motioned at the bed… “I guess it’s the least I can do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya has something to say about what Sara's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In part, this chapter was inspired by Caity Lotz's comment that Sara loses everyone she loves. It's also inspired by her hope that Sara and Amaya have a strong friendship.

Amaya had seen this sort of thing before, during the war: Men and women falling into the arms of strangers to forget their losses. As long as it didn’t affect their missions, she wasn’t going to worry about Sara’s casual encounters throughout history. They were from different eras, with different standards, and Amaya had already learned not to apply 1940s morality to Justice Society members from the future.

The first time Sara came out of Ray’s room, flushed and breathing hard, Amaya thought it might be a fluke, Ray just a convenient body for Sara to lose herself in after a tough mission.

At the next briefing, the two of them acted as if nothing was different between them, so she chose to say nothing.

Two times, though, was trouble waiting to happen. Especially considering the way Ray looked at Sara the next morning. Sara might be able to treat sex casually, but from what Amaya knew of Ray Palmer, it was something he wouldn’t be able to manage for long. 

This time she had to say something to Sara.

But perhaps she shouldn’t have said it when they were sparring. Sara’s response to her carefully worded concerns was a snarl and a hit that knocked Amaya squarely on her backside. Then the assassin stalked off.

The third time was when it fell apart. Not for Ray, but for Sara.

Amaya had just settled on her bed with a book for the evening when her door slid open. Sara stood in the entry, tears streaming down her face.

Amaya put the book down and slid off her bed, holding her arms open wide for the other woman to rush into them. She stroked Sara’s golden hair and let her cry herself out before leading her to sit down next to her on the bed.

“You were right, Amaya. You were right,” Sara said with a sniffle. “I… I called Leonard’s name and… Ray’s face…”

Amaya sighed. “And being the sweet man he is, Ray will never actually say anything to you about it. He’ll just keep offering himself up out of guilt.”

“Guilt?”

Amaya put one arm around Sara’s shoulders. “Rip told me he saw a vision of Ray dying at the Oculus. Not Snart. And every time Ray mentions something about Snart, he has this look…” Amaya shook her head. “It’s a look I saw during the war, when soldiers talked about friends who took a bullet for them.”

“Survivors’ guilt,” Sara said.

Amaya nodded. “That’s a good term for what both of you have.”

“Both of us?”

“He feels guilty about Snart, you feel guilty about your sister. And your guilt over your sister has kept you from mourning for Snart the way you should have, like a lover.” 

Sara’s eyes glistened with new tears. “We weren’t…”

Amaya waved that off. “Semantics. Where I come from, those card games and all the looks I’m told you two shared would have made you one of the great love stories of the age, even if you never made it as far as a kiss.”

Sara stared at her, wide-eyed, as Amaya went on, “You loved him and you lost him, and from what I’ve heard since joining this team, you never really got the chance to deal with that loss.”

Sara leaned forward, putting her face in her hands. “So did they all see what I was too stupid to see until it was too late?”

Amaya rubbed her back soothingly. “Only Mick, I think. Ray didn’t figure it out until… well, you know. Rip is too focused on his own grief, Jax is just too… inexperienced to understand, and if Martin knows, he’s being discreet. Rex and Nate don’t know enough about you or Snart to have figured it out.”

“But you did?” Sara asked, wiping her eyes.

Amaya shrugged. “My totem does give me the ability to detect some feelings via scent. Like sadness. But most of it… call it a woman’s intuition.”

She smiled and slid off the bed. “Come on. I’ll make us some tea. And then you can tell me about the Leonard Snart you loved.”

Sara gave her a watery smile and slid off the bed too. “We did get as far as a kiss….”

**Author's Note:**

> I know. Sorry. I'm working on some fluff now.


End file.
